


The Stowaway

by WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo/pseuds/WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This stowaway is pretty, and he says he'll do anything if she lets him stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stowaway

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lj smut_fest's prompt fest, from prompt 77, although I haven't followed it exactly, apologies for that.  
> Thank you so much to my beta emansil_12, who pretty much rewrote this in parts and made it a whole lot better.

"Captain?"

"One minute." _Thirty seven, thirty eight, thirty nine…_

"But Captain…"

Carthagia sighed. "Bot halt! Epsilon 520. Halt!" The droid froze in place, its forklift loaded down with twisted metal. "Yes, First Mate?"

Her second in command looked sheepish. "Ma'am, the crew were wanting to know whether they could go start their surface leave now,” he asked.

"When everything’s unloaded and checked," she snapped back.

"But they're not doing anything. You're counting it off. There's nothing else to do."  
She looked at him sharply and he lowered his gaze in a facsimile of subservience.

"The security checks."

"They can't do that until we're unloaded. There never are any security breaches. Have a heart. They can smell the sea, and they’ve worked hard. They’ve earned it."

"Smell the brothels more like," she muttered. Tay'qn was notorious. "Epsilon 520 recommence!" she shouted out and the loading droid rolled forward again. "Forty." She was aware of her tired, over-excited crew behind her, eagerly waiting for the go-ahead to jump down onto the planet mere feet below and start spending the wages they had accumulated over the past five weeks salvaging in outer space. _Forty-one_. They had their buyer already set up, his warehouse was in the quayspace directly below them. _Forty-two_. Only five more loads of metal scrap, then the three of electronics. The droids had that all under control. She sighed. "Go on, then. I'll cover the security checks. They've got thirty six hours.

There was a cheer behind her and an unseemly scuffle. She kept her concentration on the paperwork and the cargo. By the time the droids got to shifting the electronics she was the only crew member on the ship.

An hour later, her boots were clanging down corridors as she checked doors and made plans for her own surface leave. A walk on the beach, followed by lunch at a restaurant in the hills high above the collection of bars and steamy establishments which clustered at the port, and then she fancied something like horse riding, something brisk through fresh air. Of course that all depended on whether Tay'qn was inhabited by anything which was something like a horse. She checked the doors she passed in a half-hearted way. She had never known one to stay unlocked after the security system had been enabled.

The light sensors followed her route, illuminating the space ahead, and extinguishing once she had passed. The corridors which branched off to the sides were dark and silent. Almost spookily so. She offered each one a tired, cursory glance.

And then she stopped. Dead. Light leaked from the edges of a hatch in the ceiling down one of those dark corridors. As the echoes of her own boot-falls faded, she heard something, too. Something lilting and soft. She unclasped her company issue boots and slipped out of them to creep down the passageway. The cold of the metal seeped through her socks and her feet slid slightly with every step. The passageway lit up and she could no longer see the light at the edges of the hatch. The lilting noise grew loader. It was -- singing: breathy, slow, human singing. 

She stood under the hatch, reached up and – as quietly as she could – she unbolted it. She braced herself, one palm pressed upwards, then stepped back neatly. Something dark and solid fell with a yelp from ceiling to floor. Dust motes fell with it and swirled in the otherwise clinical white light.

The thing on the floor had a face: male, adolescent, human, olive-skinned Caucasian. It had a voice, the voice of the singing, but, not surprisingly, it no longer sang. It swore as though in mild pain. Then it looked up at her with brown eyes. He grimaced.

"Shit, sorry. Look. Sorry," he said. "I thought you'd all gone. Please don't tell the captain!"

Carthagia took a deep breath, then she barked, "Stand up!"

The boy on the floor scrambled to his feet. He glanced at the insignia on her chest as he did so. "Shit. You _are_ the captain, aren't you?"

"What in hell are you doing on my vessel?" She tried to keep her voice steady, but her heart was hammering in her chest. This was the first irregularity she had ever encountered in nearly a decade of space travel. Everything always ran like clockwork. Some found it tedious; she had always felt safe. Now, for the first time, she was in a situation which could be dangerous. Her crew weren't on board. She didn't have a weapon. She didn't even have her boots on for God's sake!

"I was on the satellite. The one where you picked up the electronics."

She allowed herself a quick scan of the youth that stood before her. He was a head taller than she was, but slight. He was having trouble adjusting to the bright light, too. If she was going to need to overpower him then she ought to do it sooner rather than later when he would be able to see properly. He had unshod feet, the same as she did. His toes were long and white and hairless, with flat, clear nails. Once she knew what she was up against, her sight snapped back to capture his gaze in hers.

"How did you get on board?"

"When you were loading. Sorry."

"Why?" It had been a family-run satellite. The inhabitants had been friendly. She must have let her guard down, failed on one of the standard security checks.

"Because I can't stay there for the rest of my life! I just can't! They don't let me do anything or go anywhere, I'm just supposed to marry my cousin and spend the rest of my life monitoring traffic and weather like my parents. There's a whole bloody universe–!" His voice was lapsing into an annoying adolescent whine, but she recognised the sentiment completely. That was how she had felt, too.

She took a deep breath. She had followed proper procedures to get away from home, she hadn't stowed away on a company ship. It was all highly irregular and dangerous. What she had to do now was to follow company policy to the letter, fill in the paperwork, and face the music. "It is company policy to press charges in every case of theft. You have stolen passage. I will therefore have to hand you over to the authorities–"

The boy sank to his knees with a pained cry. Then he gabbled, "please don't do that, have mercy, I'll do anything–"

"It's a minor misdemeanour and a first offence, all you'll get is a couple of points on your ID." She rolled her eyes at his melodrama.

"Is that all?" His pretty brown eyes peeked up at her through his long lashes. "Then what?"

"Then you'll be deposited on the surface."

"What will I do then?"

"How should I know?"

He sat back on his heels. "Where are we? What's it like?"

He was so soft and slight and pretty. She could predict exactly what he would have to do on Tay'qn. There was only one line of work he'd be qualified for. He'd last a couple of years if that, then he'd be dumped onto the streets where he'd be used even worse. 

She had to follow company policy; he wasn't her problem.

He was only a reckless, bored teenager. It wasn't like he'd damaged the company in any way. They need never know.

She was the captain! If she couldn't follow procedure, then what hope was there for anyone else? What kind of an example would it set if she failed to hand him over to the authorities? How could she let the boy stay on board? 

But there was no-one else on ship. Her crew need never know. He had hidden successfully for three weeks. In another fortnight they would be landing on Crae where there were farming jobs and armies to join and places to study. The lad might have a future on Crae. He could not on Tay'qn.

"I'll do anything," he said softly.

"We don't need to rush to a decision, I suppose. You'd better come up to the office--" but there were security monitors in the ship's office "—in my quarters, and we'll check the procedure." She knew full well what the procedure was. She was failing to follow it already.

She marched smartly to her boots and put them back on. As she clasped them, she heard the boy stumbling upright as he followed her. She didn't turn to look at him.

"What have you been eating?" she asked. She had to be sure that he hadn't stolen anything. Well, anything more than his passage.

"I brought some dried stuff with me. And some water. But it ran out a few days ago."

"Are you hungry?" She let herself glance at him.

"A bit."

A lot, probably. She could feed him. It was her own food, it was up to her if she chose to feed him. She could at least give him a meal before handing him over to be processed.

She didn't have to sit opposite him, of course, and the candles weren't exactly necessary. He might have been pretty and he might have said that he'd do anything, but it didn't mean that she was going to take advantage of that just because she shared a lunch with him. There was nothing to stop her sharing this bottle of wine with him before they went to the Authorities.

She couldn't help watching every morsel as it entered his mouth, though, couldn't calm her reaction to his long tongue on his spoon; she couldn't help thinking that it had been a very long time since that night with the fleet commandant.

He looked at her, too. His eyes dragged over her uniform, and she was pretty sure that it wasn't the insignia which caught his attention at her chest anymore. He'd spent three weeks on his own.

At the end of the meal, he sat back. They had chatted while they ate and she now knew that his name was Seth and that he was nineteen years old. He knew her name and age, too. It didn't seem to bother him that she was nearly thirty.

"Better?" she found herself asking softly.

"I'm tired now." Then he seemed to remember his manners as swiftly as if his mother had elbowed him. "Thanks for the lovely meal."

"That's ok. Would you like a lie down?"

He nodded.

Her heart raced and her mouth dried. She couldn't believe that she was about to do this. She always followed procedure. She was terrified and excited all at the same time, and it all felt rather similar. And then she rose to her feet, and she said it. She could hardly believe that she'd said it: "My bed's through this way."

The light was dimmer in the bed chamber. Seth sat on the bed. She sat next to him.

"I’d be more comfortable if I could take my clothes off,” he said. Through the thickness of his voice, she could tell that he was as nervous as she was.

She nodded.

He wore a shapeless black suit which unzipped at the neck and slipped from his shoulders. His upper arms were shapely, but not thick with muscle. His chest was smooth and broad, with just a light dusting of hair as black as it was on his head. He didn't look at her, and a flush spread from his neck to his cheeks, as he pushed the suit down over his concave, pale belly and off his arms and hands. He didn't wear underwear. A long, red cock was stiffening on a bed of black hair. Carthagia stared. It really had been a very long time.

She unfastened her uniform at the shoulders and the front panel fell forward. Seth stared at the unembellished black of her bra, at the curves of brown skin around it. She took his hand and placed it over her breast, placing his fingers near the opening, where the material barely covered her nipple, guiding them to slide under the material onto her breast. His cock was fully erect now, straining, bobbing against his belly. He thrust his hand all the way in, cupping her nipple in his palm, then squeezed gently. Her breathy moan filled the small chamber.

She ran her own hands over his thighs, down the outside, feeling their warmth as she did, and back up the inside until they reached his balls, which she caressed. He let out a soft, surprised, pleased noise. She was hot between her legs now, so very wet, engorged with blood which made her twitch. She barely remembered feeling like this before. The need for friction was strong. She climbed onto his thigh and rubbed herself on it. 

He held her head by the braids and their mouths pressed together. His mouth was warm and wet. She opened wide and let his stiffened tongue thrust in repeatedly. His hot breath puffed onto her cheek.

He fumbled at the fastenings of her uniform so she let go of his balls, and unclasped her bra quickly removing it. He broke the kiss to lick wide stripes over her tight, stiff nipples. His hands were at her waist, pushing at the waistband of her trousers. Then impatiently, he pushed them down exposing her cunt and arse to his touch. One hand caressed the curve of her buttock, as the other one ran through her pubic hair and one finger searched for the dampness beyond. 

Carthagia stood and pushed away her clothing. Seth's fingertip ran over her clit and she let out a shuddering moan. She clasped his hand in her own and directed the speed and pressure of his touch, circling her clitoris, rubbing herself against his finger. His lips closed around her left nipple and he sucked gently. He continued stroking over her buttocks, kneading and massaging, while she clutched at his hair trying not to grasp too tightly as her pleasure built.

The damp tip of Seth's cock nudged at her thigh as she moved up and down, following her own pleasure, chasing it in the movement of his finger. Her inner passage clenched, twitched, spread heat and electrical tingling. She was close. She slid his palm over her clit and rubbed against him: up, down, up, down, updownupdownupdown. Heat and joy spread out from her clit to the rest of her body. She heard herself cry out and, as she involuntarily clenched internally, Seth's hard, thick cock filled her.

Goosebumps covered her skin as her orgasm ended. She pushed Seth down. His eyes were closed, his mouth wet and open. Clumsily she kissed it. His hips thrust upwards. Her pussy felt warm and tingly, satisfied, yet open and pliable, wanting more. His cock slipped in and out – but never all the way out. He was panting and flushed, and making sweet, frustrated sounds. She rolled them over.

When she was lying under his bony pelvis, she worked her feet against one leg and then the other pushing her trouser legs from her ankles. Seth kept up shallow thrusts into her. She clutched at his upper arms, and kicked the remains of his black suit from his legs, before raising her knees. Seth groaned loudly and his thrusts became deeper and faster. She crossed her ankles behind his back and urged him on with her body, pulling him tighter and closer.

His face shone with sweat, bright red, concentrating. She looked up at it, wanting to kiss him again, but knowing to do so would break his rhythm. Her next climax was rising again. She rode it, finding the angle, using his friction. Her fingernails dug into him as she came again.

Above her, Seth's eyes had flown open. As she twitched out the last of her orgasm, he cried out, thrusting wildly, his back and arms stiff. Then he collapsed onto her.

His sweaty, flat hair stuck to his forehead. She looked at his face as best she could; it was too close for focus. Their chests rose and fell against each other. 

After a few moments, Seth lifted his head. "That was amazing," he panted softly.

"Uh huh," she agreed. "Juice?" Her throat was raw.

"Can we lie here for a while?" he asked breathlessly, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck. "Want to stay inside you." 

His body was so warm. Her throat could wait.

Eventually his cock slipped out. They dozed. She woke and pushed his slight body off hers, then climbed from the bed to get juice and run a bath. She wondered whether she could manage to hide him until they got to Cae. This would be a good way to end each day. There was so much she could teach him. Each night a new lesson in how to please a woman with the next morning the exam to test his memory. After all he was young, eager to learn and he had energy. Already she could see that his recovery time was impressive. His erection was blooming again just from watching her moving round the quarters. 

There was no reason why he would have to get off at Cae. She could keep him a secret. None of the crew ever came into her private quarters. Who was going to tell the company? She took hold of his hand and pulled him from the bed to lead him towards the bath. She could see a very pleasant future for them both.


End file.
